


The Marketplace

by facetofcathy



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: 100-1000 Words, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-15
Updated: 2008-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetofcathy/pseuds/facetofcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen wants Merlin's help with a little shopping trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Marketplace

"Merlin," Gwen said, and she smiled at him in that way she had. The way that meant she wanted him to do something embarrassing, dangerous, illegal, or possibly all three.

"No," Merlin said, decisively.

Naturally enough, Merlin found himself, some short time later, accompanying Gwen on a trip to the marketplace.

"It's right through here," she told him, and unless Merlin had been paying even less attention than usual, she hadn't actually told him what _it_ was.

They fetched up at a stall that sold implements carved from wood. The craftsmanship was fine enough, but the goods were everyday things—bowls, spoons, paddles for churning butter, solid looking cups and plates and everything else a household could require. Merlin was examining a wooden jar with a tight stopper that might be handy for all those herb collecting trips he was forever being sent on, when he noticed that Gwen was smiling at him in a way that boded no good. She took hold of his arm and dragged him into the curtained interior of the stall.

Merlin blinked in the sudden gloom, and the proprietor lit another candle and stepped back outside. The flame's glow danced across the smooth satin surfaces of rows of carved and oiled wood. They were surrounded by shelves full of carvings. The woods used were beautiful—some of it exotic in appearance and some of it the sort of fine walnut, apple or cherry wood that the best furniture in the castle was fashioned from.

Merlin picked up one piece, and the silky feel of the wood in his hand made him shudder in delight. The wood was carnelian and flame, oiled to a low sheen, and the whirls and whorls of the once live tree had given the object a beauty and grace beyond it's mere shape—this was something beyond craftsmanship.

"Merlin?" Gwen said, just as Merlin had been about to bring the item to his nose to smell the rich scent of the cherry wood.

Merlin grinned instead, and hefted the thing. "It's really very realistic," he said.

"My Lady prefers something that's a little less of a perfect replica," she said.

Merlin set the piece down and cast a last look at it. It was stunning. The shaft was long, and the carver had included the testicles, which Merlin supposed made for a convenient handle. The head was perfectly carved, with a whorl of the grain describing it's curves so that it seemed to pulse with life. If he had a criticism of the piece, it was that it was too slender, but that was surely just a question of taste, and no true mark against it.

Merlin crossed the small space to stand at Gwen's side. She was studying an array of more fanciful shapes, not too varied from the fleshy inspiration, but different enough. She was holding one, carved from a honey gold wood in a shape like a series of round balls that gradually tapered to a gentle rounded end. "What do you think?" she asked.

"I can see the appeal," Merlin said, " but it is a bit small."

Gwen flushed and ducked her head. "That rather depends, Merlin."

"Of course."

"But I think you might be right," She said and set the item down to chose another. This one had a thicker nubby shaft and a pronounced yet gently rounded bulb at the end. Merlin could see the appeal of that as well.

His gaze was caught by a row of smaller pieces, and he bent to take a closer look. The wood used here was darker—walnut for some and something almost black for others. The grain was close and fine, and the pieces spoke plainly of the purest of devotion to a man's pleasure in the heart of the carver. The bulb shapes—similar all, yet still individual—flared out from a smoothed point to a fullness that was pleasing to contemplate, before narrowing to a slender neck and flaring out again into a large flattened round base. Merlin picked up one that was of the darkest, blackest wood he had ever seen. The wood was dense and strong, and it had a surprising weight in his palm. The surface of the round base was carved into a perfect and gleaming black rose. The touch of the silky, oiled wood against his skin was intoxicating. Merlin was not a man given to avarice. He'd had few things to call his own as a child, fewer still as a young man, and he had never felt their lack as a hardship. But this, this he desired with his whole heart.

Gwen stepped closer and said, in a tone made for sharing secrets, "I think My Lady may have occasion to speak to a certain man about some purchases he may make"

Merlin looked up and grinned at her, and now he was the one flushing and ducking his head. "Do you think he would?"

"I think he would be pleased to bestow such a token on someone he values so highly, even if he does think you're a dreadful servant."

"In that case, you might mention that cord strung with beads, and," Merlin said and pointed, "this set of rings as well. I believe the second and third largest are the right size."

Gwen giggled and said, "Well, if we're going to be greedy about it, I think I'll look over there at those rather unusual thimbles."

Merlin ran his thumb over the black rose before reluctantly setting the carving down again. "Gwen," he said, "anytime you want me to accompany you on your shopping trips, just ask"


End file.
